


Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas

by ThoseDaysThatWill



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Boston Bruins, Carolina Hurricanes, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Dallas Stars, M/M, Vancouver Canucks, cute couples being Christmasy, fluffy fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:01:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21734170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThoseDaysThatWill/pseuds/ThoseDaysThatWill
Summary: A series of Christmas'y ficlets...The first day of Christmas: Andrei Svechnikov and Dougie Hamilton (1,400 words)The second day of Christmas: Charlie Coyle and Chris Wagner (900 words)The third day of Christmas: Sebastian Aho and Roope Hintz (1,000 words)The fourth day of Christmas: Brock Boeser and Elias Pettersson (1,300 words)The fifth day of Christmas: Teuvo Teräväinen and Kimmo Timonen (1,400 words)
Relationships: Brock Boeser/Elias Pettersson, Charlie Coyle/Chris Wagner, Dougie Hamilton/Andrei Svechnikov, Sebastian Aho/Roope Hintz, Teuvo Teravainen/Kimmo Timonen
Comments: 10
Kudos: 58





	1. Andrei and Dougie

**Author's Note:**

> They were all supposed to be 500 words. As you can see... I fail at writing short things.

Andrei stared at the small wrapped package for what felt like a full minute before he picked it up. It was sitting on the shelf above his stall. It had been wrapped very messily, or else what was inside was extremely lumpy. The paper was green with candy canes, so he could be reasonably sure it was supposed to be a Christmas present. No tag meant he had no idea who left it in his locker, if it was a prank or a mistake or what. He glanced around the room, but no one seemed to be watching him, which was all the more confusing. He put it back in his locker and put his focus on getting ready for practice. If it was a mistake, he figured it would be gone when he got back. 

When he returned to his locker after practice there was now a note taped to the package. The writing was extremely shaky cyrillic and Andrei had to stare at it for a full minute before he could figure out what the letters were supposed to be, it was like a child learning to write for the first time, he didn't know any Russian that _printed_ in cyrillic, it was clearly written by a foreigner. But the best he could figure out it said _"открой меня",_ and he guessed that was order to open the package. 

He kept his back to the locker room, masking what he was doing just in case it was a prank, he could hide it before one of the louder guys caught him and told everyone to laugh at him. But inside the paper wasn't a prank, it was a pair of socks. Each had a moose face on them, with lights entangled in his antlers. They seemed lumpier than regular socks and when he squeezed them he discovered why. The lights were _lights,_ the socks lit up. They were the strangest thing he'd ever seen in his life and he really liked them. Shoving them into his bag, he glanced around the locker room again, but still no one was willing to show themselves as the person who knew he needed light up moose socks. He said nothing and shouldered his bag to head out. 

The second package was in his stall the next day and this time it had a note attached when he first discovered it. This time the note was typed, which at least made it easier to read. This note said: _Я подарок. Открой меня!_ Not only another order to open it, but also an explanation that it was a present. Still, it wasn't signed. He opened this one right away. Inside was a plastic baggie of red and green _something_. There was a handwritten label on the bag, again in that kindergarten cyrillic but it _must_ have been a mistranslation, because he didn't think it could really be _кукуруза северного оленя,_ or what he read as 'corn reindeer'. He was confused, it wasn't any kind of _corn_ as he knew it and it smelled like candy, so it certainly wasn't made of reindeer. 

He took out his phone and typed the words in Russian but as he expected, all he got were pictures of reindeer, nothing that looked like whatever was in the baggie. He was almost completely positive that there were no reindeer in Raleigh (at least not in the wild), so he assumed this was some American thing he was missing the point of. There was only one way to solve this. He turned abruptly on his heels and took the couple steps over to another stall, "Dougie, I need to ask you a thing." 

Dougie picked his head up right away, tucking his phone beside him on the bench, "Yeah? What's up?" 

He held out the baggie, "What is corn... deer?" 

Dougie blinked, "What?" 

Andrei pointed to the writing on the bag, "You see here, the Russian? It say 'corn' 'north' 'deer'. But that mean... what do you say them, the ones that go with Santa? We have this at home." 

"Reindeer?" 

Andrei nodded quickly, "Да! _Corn reindeer_. That is what it say, what is it?"

Dougie opened the bag and peered inside, "Looks like Christmas candy corn." He popped one into his mouth, "Yup, that's what it is alright. You remember I showed you candy corn at Halloween, you liked it." 

"And this one is that, but for... _Рождество?"_ He tried to pepper Russian words into their conversation after Dougie told him that was a good way to teach someone a language. He wasn't sure if he'd remember the word for Christmas, but they had talked about how much he enjoyed it a lot on the plane.

Dougie nodded, "Yeah, looks like it." 

Andrei tried one as he walked back to his stall. It did taste kinda like the ones from Halloween, but not as good. He tossed the baggie into his bag and put his focus on changing for practice. It was hard to concentrate, because his mind kept going back to who would be leaving him presents like this. It was nice, he wished they had signed the note so he could thank him. 

Over the following weeks there was a new present in his locker every morning, even when they were on the road. They were all wrapped in the same green paper with candy canes, and always messy. All the gifts were all Christmasy. One was an elf hat with ears attached, which he cheerfully wore until he had to put his helmet on. Another was a tie with a tree that had lights in it like the moose socks. There were a few different decorations, some multi-colored lights, red sparkly garland, and an ornament that looked like a pair of skates. 

Another was a bag of red and green M&Ms, which he could recognize as candy despite the label that read _кофет_ instead of what he assumed was supposed to be _конфет_. He didn't see any _coffee_ in the bag but plenty of _chocolate_. There were other kinds of candy on other days, too, candy canes and gumdrops and some strange taffy like thing that stuck in his teeth. One day a was hot chocolate mix with tiny marshmallows. There were gingerbread cookies that looked like they came from a bakery and the minute he opened the container his teammates' could smell them. He only ended up getting two for himself. 

It was getting to the point that Andrei couldn't wait to get to the rink in the morning to see what would be in his locker. It made him feel like a little kid on Christmas morning every day. He knew it was silly to be that excited, but he was, it was special. And it meant that someone cared enough about him to go to the trouble of buying and wrapping all these silly things, to leave for him to find. He had an idea who it might be, but he had no proof.

The next day, the gift was a DVD, _Рождественская история_ , the Russian dubbed version of A Christmas Carol. That was the first _real_ clue he had telling him who was leaving the packages. A few days before, he had stared into the shocked face of someone who couldn't believe he had _never_ seen any version of the classic story all the way through. And here was his very own copy, in Russian. He turned to face the locker room and this time there was one set of eyes locked on him. "Dougie!"

He tried to keep his face neutral, badly, "Yeah?" 

Andrei marched over to his stall, the DVD still in his hand, "You do this?!" 

Dougie's cheeks flushed pink, "Do what?" He also lied badly. 

Andrei stepped closer to him, "You give me _all_ these thing? _Зачем?"_

He shrugged, "I thought you might like it. Was it weird?"

Andre shook his head firmly, "I like it very much."

"Yeah?" Dougie picked his head up, his cheeks even brighter pink, but a smile was curling his lips now.

"Yeah." He echoed, "Very much. Maybe..." Andrei lifted his eyes to meet his, "After practice you come over and we watch this?" He held up the DVD, "You know how it goes, it can teach to you some Russian."

Dougie's grin lit up his whole face, "Sound great. I'll bring popcorn."


	2. Charlie and Chris

"Of course we need a real tree, what's the matter with you?!" 

Charlie sighed, "Well, back in--"

"If you say the M-word I'm going to punch you in the nose." Chris had his hands on his hips, but one curled into a fist in case he thought he was kidding (which he absolutely was, but that wasn't the point).

Charlie held up his hands, "Okay, okay, I won't say it, but... there are perfectly nice fake trees and we don't need to worry about Bodie eating them and we don't have to clean up after them or water them or whatever you do to real trees with lights on them so they don't become a fire hazard and burn our house down."

Chris paused, tipped his head to the side, and smiled. "Our house?" 

Charlie made a face, "Your house." 

Chris shook his head, "No, go back to how you said it before. Our house. I like that. Are you saying you want to move in?" 

"For at least the next three years." Charlie gave him one of those half-smiles that he knew full well drove him crazy. 

Chris grabbed him by the hips, sliding his arms around his waist, honestly he hadn't expected that answer, but he played it cool. "Or six years, I'll sign another one, don't worry." 

"Did I look worried?"

Chris rolled his eyes, "Even if you were, you wouldn't. Stop distracting me with your sexy bullshit, I want to talk about the tree. We need a real one."

Charlie laughed, "Okay, I'll tone down my sexy bullshit. There's nothing wrong with a fake tree. They come with lights on them." 

"Is that what _Jason_ did?" Chris didn't bother to keep the contempt from his voice. He didn't do much with regrets, life moved too fast for that, but regrets over the decision to break up because of distance before they both left the state was one he held on to, mostly because of what Charlie had discovered in Minnesota. Being traded home, he said, was a sign. That was about as much as they talked about it before they ended up back in bed together. They hadn't bothered to define anything in words, but the contracts told Chris all he needed to know. Charlie burst out laughing, and Chris pulled away from him, "What?"

He cleared his throat and shook his head, finally getting his composure, "Jason's Jewish." 

"Oh." 

Charlie plopped down onto the couch, gesturing Chris join him, which he did. "Carly is big into Christmas, though, and yeah she had us put up a couple fake ones, pretty much right after Thanksgiving. Especially after Hendrix was born." He pulled Chris closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, which he took as a sign to curl into his side. Maybe he should have felt silly doing that, but he'd craved it too damn much to care. 

"Did you tell them about us?" He asked, carefully. 

Charlie raised an eyebrow, "You think I was just cheating on him this whole time?"

Chris frowned, "No, I just...." 

"You did! You think I'm that much of an asshole?" Charlie was openly side-eyeing him.

Chris pulled back, "I don't know. But you did?"

"Yeah, I did. We were over a long time ago, we just weren't willing to break up, maybe for the kids, I don't know. But when he heard about the trade, he asked me if I requested it." Charlie scoffed, "Like I could have demanded to come here and they would have just said yes."

"He thought you'd want to be here?" Chris asked, settling back into Charlie's side. 

He nodded, "I told him about you My _ex.._."

"That you were still in love with?" Chris added.

Charlie gave a short laugh, "I didn't _say_ that, but I think he figured it out. So when I told him about the trade he said 'Are you going to go for him?' and I said something like 'He's probably not single' and he said 'He probably waited for you like you waited for him' and I pointed out that I didn't exactly wait since I was dating him, and living with him, at the time, and he just said 'yes you did, good luck' and he said if I wanted visitation with Sophia and Hendrix that we could work something out. Stella was born a month after I was traded, so I guess she doesn't count as mine. But anyway, that's how Jason and I broke up back in February."

Chris shifted to look at him, "Why didn't you ever tell me that?" 

Charlie shrugged, "I don't know, I figured when I kissed you, you'd assume I was single, not an asshole. I didn't know you thought I was cheating on him for almost a year. You were there when Carly brought the kids around, how do you think I explained you?"

Chris groaned, "I don't know! I was stupid! Just... how did we even get onto this? I don't want to talk about your ex and my stupid fears and all that bullshit. I just want to get a fucking real Christmas tree and have a fucking real Christmas with you, okay?!"

Charlie smiled, "Christopher." 

He gave him a sharp side-eye, "Charles."

Charlie laughed, "I love you." 

Chris' shoulders dropped, and he couldn't help the smile, "I love you too."

"Let's go tree shopping."


	3. Roope and Sebastian

"It's twelve degrees right now." Roope was trying very hard not to whine, but wasn't succeeding. "And _sunny._ It's so wrong."

Sebastian sighed, leaning his head back. He always draped across the same chair when Roope called. He wasn't really sure why, but it was his habit. When he moved out of Teuvo's apartment, he took the chair with him. It was technically Teuvo's but he didn't care. Or at least he didn't want to bother putting up an argument about it, since the whole thing was a very touchy situation that he was _still_ bitter about. "Tell me about it, it's sunny here too. I'm lucky in that it's at least in the single digits, but it's still on the positive side. and that's too warm for Christmastime."

"You always whine and bitched about it being too cold when you played at home, now you're bitching about it being too warm." Roope annoyingly pointed out. 

"Yeah, and?" Sebastian knew it wasn't a good retort but it was what he had. "How is it back home?" 

There was a pause and then Roope reported, "It's snowing in Helsinki, and Tampere. No snow for you, rain. But it's around zero everywhere. I have a really nice winter coat for this season and it's not cold enough to wear it and I hate that for me."

"You do look good in a scarf." Sebastian agreed.

_"I know!"_

Sebastian sighed. He did have to admit that his boyfriend knew how to put an outfit together. "Distract me from the torture of _not_ getting pictures of you in good winter gear, tell me what you're getting me for Christmas." 

Roope laughed, "I'm not telling you anything. You can keep asking, but I'm not telling. Santa's bringing your present, but you can't open it until Christmas day. And no hints either."

Sebastian sighed, "Does Santa even deliver here? It's a _long_ way from his home. And mine."

"You always get like this at Christmas." 

Sebastian scoffed, "So do you."

Roope was giving him _that_ smile, he loved that smile, he could see it over the phone. "I did, because I miss you. Last year, you were trying to figure out how you were going split Christmas between me and Teuvo which I hated, but this year I get you all to myself. So I'm not complaining about anything except that it's too warm and too sunny."

"I'm not complaining either, I'm focused on Christmasy things. Are Esa and John having that St. Lucia thing again this year?" He asked.

"Mmhmm. We play on the 13th but I think they're still doing a brunch thing that day. John just likes to have an excuse to cook a lot and make the team eat it. I'm not complaining, I like being cooked for and his stuff is usually pretty good, and he makes me take leftovers home. I wasn't up last year at Christmas, but they made me come to Dallas for it anyway. I think he invites everyone in the whole Stars system, from our countries or not, doesn’t matter.”

"I'm jealous." Sebastian huffed.

Roope laughed, "You have enough Finns and Swedes on your team, you could do it up. It’s just an excuse to get together and eat, no one’s sticking a wreath of candles on anyone’s head. At least not sober.”

"We're on a Canada trip right over the day. Vancouver before and Calgary after. Maybe we'll do a team dinner thing, at a restaurant." He shrugged. It wasn't that his team wasn't close, they _very_ much were, but it always seemed different from how Roope's team was close. He couldn't put a word to it, but it was different. But he brushed that off, he was glad Roope had what he had, he deserved it. "Are you going to invite the Russian?"

"I know this comes as a shock every time I tell you, but he does have a _name_." Roope teased. 

Sebastian scoffed, "What's your point?" 

Roope laughed again, "It's hysterical how jealous you are of him. Of all people, _him!"_

"My teammates were showing me that clip for _days!_ I have every right to dislike him." Sebastian had used the same argument every time he brought it up, but it was a valid one, at least to him.

That only made Roope laugh more, "Like I'm the first guy to watch someone make a good move and think 'I'd hit that so hard'. Not my fault they filmed me thinking it."

"Do you really need to look so damn sexy while you're thinking it?" Sebastian countered.

"Yes." Roope was never one to mince words.

Sebastian was pouting now, which wasn't as effective over the phone as it was in person, but it would still have _some_ effect, he knew. "Do you look like that about me?"

Roope scoffed, "You _know_ I do. I almost got off to your hattrick the other day. _That_ was sexy." 

Sebastian made a small appeased sound, "Good. Now give me a hint what you're getting me for Christmas."

Roope laughed, "No, stop asking. I need to nap before the game, so just keep talking so I can sleep." He made a few soft moaning sounds as he settled into bed, and Sebastian could hear that he'd put the phone on speaker. "Talk about Christmas."

He closed his eyes, "You remember our first Christmas together? I mean we weren't even _together_ together backthen, but we had to be together on Christmas to get ready for the tournament and we were just so... maybe that's why I like Christmas so much, I think I fell in love with you on Christmas." He paused and listened to the sounds of Roope's even breathing from the other end of the call, "Yeah... I'm sure I did. We'd been sleeping together for years, but I think that's the day I actually knew that you were _the one_." 

"I love you too." Roope murmured, almost completely asleep.

And Sebastian just smiled.


	4. Brock and Elias

Brock pulled the blanket over his head and mumbled something that, even if Elias could have heard it, he would have ignored. He had been overdramatic in everything he'd said since Elias walked through the door. He left him there curled into a ball in his bed and headed for the kitchen. He set to unpack the groceries he had bought and got to work. Elias would never say he liked to cook but he was capable of it, in a very utilitarian way, what he could make was eatable, nutritious and simple, but not fancy. 

He wasn't used to the kitchen being so quiet when he cooked, though. Usually when he brought food to cook at Brock's apartment, he had Brock watching him and chattering on endlessly about everything and nothing. It wasn't something he thought he'd ever like, not to mention miss, but coming from Brock it was charming and the silence was lonely. But he kept his focus on what he was doing and had all the ingredients together in record time. 

He went back into the bedroom, steaming mug in hand, and pulled the covers down very gently. Brock blinked up at him against the sudden rush of cool air and light. He mumbled something that probably wasn't words and turned his face into the pillow. Elias put the mug down on the nightstand, "The medicine didn't help? Not feeling better?" 

Brock let out a whining sound, but no words. 

Elias ran a hand through Brock's hair, "I made you something to drink. It helps." He wouldn't have necessarily called himself a nurturing person, but sick Brock just brought that out in him. "Here, sit up and drink it. You will feel better." 

Brock whined again but shifted so he could lean against the headboard, bunching the blanket around himself tightly. He took the mug in both hands and inhaled. "Smells like fruit," he said in his stuffed up nasally voice. 

Elias laughed, "It is fruit. My farfar said it will make _any c_ old go away. His mamma made it for him when he was little. And my far made it for me. So drink it." 

Brock did as he was instructed, taking small sips, and breathing in the steam between them. "It's good." 

Elias smiled, "When you are done with that, by then the soup will be cooked." 

Brock stopped with the mug just touching his lips and stared at Elias. 

He frowned, "What is that look for?"

Brock didn't answer for a long moment, taking a sip from his mug first. "You made me soup?"

Elias nodded, "You're sick. And I think... I think maybe I made you sick." 

Brock looked at him over the rim of his mug, "You _think?_ I wasn't kissing anyone else who _then_ told me he had a cold."

"Okay, I know I did, and I feel bad. But I made you soup. And I got you a movie to watch." Elias moved over to the TV, powering it up. 

"Is it in English?" He asked, hopefully. 

Elias laughed, "I wouldn't make you listen in Swedish when you are taking cold medicine." He walked back to the bed and took the mug out of Brock's hands, "Now lay down a minute and then I will bring you soup. And then the movie."

Brock gratefully flopped, face-first, into the mattress, lying diagonally across the bed and mumbled something that might have been 'tack' as Elias was walking out of the room. Elias laughed to himself, heading out to the kitchen. He could smell the soup already. It smelled like winter back home and playing pick up hockey all day and then coming in to dinner, pink-cheeked and soaking wet from the snowbank his brother had pushed him into. He tried not to get too nostalgic, dishing up two bowlfuls and putting it on the tray with the bottles of water and extra box of tissues he'd picked up at the grocery store. By the time he got back to the bedroom, Brock had fallen asleep. With a sigh, he put the soup aside and pulled the blanket over him.

He sat cross legged on the corner of the bed that Brock wasn’t sprawled across and took his soup to eat while it was still hot. He ate both his own bowl and Brock’s, telling himself he’d get more heated up, when Brock woke up. He even managed to doze off a little himself after that, but woke before Brock did, and started the movie out of nothing more than boredom. He could start it over when Brock woke up, he usually needed to watch movies twice to pick up all the English. 

Surprisingly enough, he found himself getting into the silly plot. _I like smiling,_ the movie declared, _smiling’s my favorite._ That explained why Quinn thought this would be the best choice in Christmas movies for Brock, smiling seemed to be his favorite too, at least around Elias. 

A groggy voice from beside him asked, “Is that _Elf?”_

Elias pulled the blanket down from where it had gotten over Brock’s head, “Yes. I started without you. But I can start again. They talk slow and it’s funny.” Those were Elias’ two most important criteria for movies.

Brock shifted until he was sitting up, with the blanket still wrapped around him, “I love that movie, how did you know?”

"I didn't. I asked Quinn for a good Christmas movie we could watch and he said this one is 'you'. He was right, I think it is 'you' too." Elias reached over to brush Brock's sleep matted hair out of his face, "He reminds me of you, the big elf, Buddy."

Brock paused a minute, and it was all over his face that he wasn't sure if he should be proud or insulted, or both. Finally he grinned, "Does that make you my Jovie?"

"If that is the girl there, yeah sure I am." Elias shook his head as he started to get up, "I'm going to heat you up some soup, you can start the movie over if you want to."

Brock grabbed for the remote, "I already missed the part in the beginning with the narwal, that's so weird, I _need_ to restart it."

By the time Elias returned with the soup, Brock was completely engrossed in the movie, laughing at things that he was pretty sure weren't even supposed to be funny, but NyQuil had that effect on him. He put the soup on the breakfast tray and settled it over his lap before getting back on his side of the bed. He found himself watching Brock much more than he was watching the movie. Even with a stuffy nose and pink cheeks, he was the most beautiful person Elias had ever seen, and when Brock turned his smile on him suddenly, Elias' breath caught.

"The soup was really good. Thank you." He leaned over, kissing Elias' cheek, "I am going to sleep a little more, but you could be, uh, over here closer to me. I sleep better that way." He laid back down and held his arms out.

Elias slide closer, letting Brock wrap his arms around him as he rested his head on his shoulder, "Just a little bit, you'll get hot." 

Brock grinned, "I'm _always_ hot." 

Elias groaned, "Go to sleep." 

He laughed, "I am, I am. But... Elias?" He picked his head up so he could see him better, "All this... it really helps make me feel better. Thank you. I'm lucky to have you, and I love you so much." 

Elias smiled, snuggling in closer to him, "You did the same for me. Of course I would too. Now go to sleep." After a brief pause, he added, "And I love you too." 


	5. Teuvo and Kimmo

Teuvo was excited. It was going to be his and Kimmo's first Christmas _together_ in the full sense of the word. Kimmo had moved in with him, they were talking about marriage, and they'd even adopted a couple of the cats from the photo shoot. They were making a home together. They had put up a real tree and decorated for the holiday together. And now Kimmo's kids were coming to spend Christmas Eve at their house, as a family. He was nervous, too, but it was exactly what he had always wanted.

Then it had dawned on him that he needed to buy them gifts. The girls were easy to shop for, they had given Kimmo a _very_ specific list of _very_ specific items they wanted and he'd passed a couple of them on to Teuvo. He had no clue why Amelie needed _that_ many shades of eyeshadow, but that was easy to buy and wrap, so he wasn't complaining. But Samuel was different, he shrugged when asked, and google was no help. Granted he had never expected he'd find himself searching "What do you buy for your 20-year-old stepson?" but the [one site](http://blog.ugiftideas.com/2015/11/20-christmas-gifts-for-son/) that seemed to offer suggestions started out with a blacksmith branding iron and from there Teuvo was afraid to scroll down. He had been around Sebastian too long to read anything past the phrase "The meat loving man..." 

There should be people that he could go to with questions like this, he decided. Not his teammates, lord knows he could _never_ ask them, because he'd never hear the end of it. Sebastian especially would be the last one he'd want to talk to about this, even if he'd be the perfect person to ask because he was probably the most like Samuel. Which was exactly the reason he couldn't ask him, too weird. So that was how he found himself wandering around the mall aimlessly, trying again with google to get _any_ sort of hint. The only kind of 'Christmas shopping help in north carolina' sites that came up were for people who couldn't afford presents and that gave him pause, so he donated to a bunch of them because he could. It didn't solve his problem, but hopefully it solved someone else's.

His wandering took him to a huge sporting goods store, but without purpose. He was thinking about a gift card but that put a specific dollar amount on it and he wasn't really sure how much was he supposed to spend. He must have been looking lost because an employee asked him if he needed any help. He nodded, "I'm looking for a present for... uh, a friend of mine." That felt weird to say, but it was what he had, "He's, uh, in his 20s, um, plays hockey." That was about all he knew, honestly, which was probably why he was at such a loss.

The sales clerk nodded, "Well... sticks are--"

Teuvo shook his head, "I don't know what he uses."

"That's okay, for the most part, they're all very similar. You could just..." He trailed off, catching Teuvo's incredulous look, "Or not?"

"Uh, yeah, probably not." Teuvo muttered, trying not to be insulted. There were _lots_ of hockey fans in the city, he knew that, he heard them when they were playing, saw them around, but this guy was _clearly_ not one, and while he didn't want to make it weird, he didn't want to hear that all sticks were the same either.

The clerk gestured towards the back of the store, "Our hockey section is over here. Maybe you could find something that would work?" 

Teuvo nodded and thanked him, letting him go back to whatever he was doing, because he wasn't really helpful but saying that outright was rude. He headed in that direction, not hopeful that there would be anything that would work for him. Places like this had collapsible nets and cheap sticks and nothing he'd buy anyone, not to mention anyone over the age of ten. He wandered the aisles, but came up with nothing. Maybe some stuff that would have been good in a stocking, but not a _present_ sized present. Eventually, he gave up and went back to his car. 

He thought about calling Kimmo, but that seemed like cheating. (He wouldn't have taken help for the girls either, but they were _very_ insistent that the list be followed.) He should be able to to do this on his own, it wasn't so long ago that he was 20 (that thought disturbed him a little and he wished he hadn't had it, but he soldiered on past it), what did he want for Christmas? The two most obvious answers were things he _got_ that year (a Cup and Kimmo) but aren't things that one can give another person. At least not in _this_ case. 

He sat in the parking lot, looking at his phone, when the idea struck him and he hit send on one of his contacts. The phone rang for a while before a groggy voice answered, "This better be important." 

Teuvo frowned and glanced at the clock. It was about midnight back home. Oops. "Sorry. I didn't think about the time difference. But since you're already awake, what do you want for Christmas?" 

Eero let out a long groan, "You woke me up to ask me _that?"_

Teuvo paused, he couldn't admit to his little brother that not only had he woken him up at midnight, he wasn't even really asking about him, but he was the only slightly _regular_ 20 year old that he knew. His teammates weren't regular people. "Well, not exactly... I need help with what present to get someone... who is your age."

There was silence on the other end and then a slightly over-dramatic sigh, "We're both going to pretend I don't know who you mean so we don't have to talk about how his son is my age, right?"

"Eero."

He coughed, "Sorry, uh... give him money?" 

Teuvo shook his head even though he couldn't see it, "Don't want to put a specific amount on it." 

"Oh yeah, makes sense. But you want to spend big, right?" He asked. 

Teuvo shrugged, "I guess so. I don't mind something expensive. I just need a good idea." 

Eero thought a minute, "How about _really_ good headphones? There are those Sony ones that everyone is talking about. Or Bose or Beats or whatever you NHL people use. Everyone needs good headphones."

Teuvo paused, thinking about it, "That's... actually a really good idea." 

Eero grunted, "You're welcome. And whatever you buy him, send me the same thing."

Teuvo laughed, "Sure. That's a fair consulting fee. Sorry I woke you up."

He sighed, "It's fine. Let me know how it goes over. Good luck." 

"Will do. Thanks." Teuvo hung up and started his car, feeling a little better about everything for the moment. 

He let himself into the house, balancing a bunch of shopping bags, and humming Christmas songs under his breath. He wasn't two steps into the living room before there was a bellow of "Don't come in here!" so loud it caused one of the cats to jump off the couch and skitter down the hallway. 

Teuvo paused, "Why not?" He asked the empty room as he stashed the bags in the hall closet.

Kimmo emerged from their bedroom, closing the door behind him, "Because it's Christmas and I said so."

"That's a terrible reason." He shook his head with a laugh. "What are you hiding?"

Kimmo stepped up closer to him, wrapping his arms around his waist, "Santa and I are having a torrid affair and I want to give him time to get back into the suit and go up the chimney before you catch him."

Teuvo stared at him, "That is so.... can we go back to 'it's Christmas and I said so'?"

Kimmo laughed, "Sure. Don't go in the bedroom, because it's Christmas and I said so." 

Teuvo draped his arms around his neck, "Kiss me and I'll agree." 

"We don't have mistletoe, but I guess I can make do." Kimmo pulled him closer, kissing him deeply, before Teuvo could tell him how incredibly cheesy that was. Or how much he enjoyed when he got like that. But at least _that_ he was more than willing to show him in the kiss. 

**Author's Note:**

> Five days of Christmas was all I got to this year! Next year, maybe I'll get all twelve!


End file.
